


Pot Luck

by arrowsshootyouforwards



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: AU, Do Not Repost to Other Sites, M/M, Questioning Sexuality, Rimmer is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowsshootyouforwards/pseuds/arrowsshootyouforwards
Summary: Chickening out of going into a Mimas Brothel Rimmer runs until he can't anymore and ducks into a friendly looking pub to ask for a cab. Little does he know, meeting this cab driver will change his life forever.





	Pot Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prompt: I would love a fic where Rimmer secretly watches Lister play pool every night and Lister notices. Rimmer pretends it's because he wants to learn play it too. Then Lister starts teaching him and things slowly turn ... romantic ...

Arnold Rimmer paid the cabbie and climbed out looking around at the glowing neon of the Mimas Red Light district. He watched as the driver left him without a backwards glance and sighed. He could do this. He looked around, making sure no one would see him and walked with a purpose towards a restaurant, perused the on-display menu and at the last minute walked down the steps to the brothel next door.

When he stood inside, the dim lighting and over-powering tacky neon gave him the look of a deer in headlights. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. Ignoring the over-attentive, scantily dressed hostess Rimmer ran, no, he legged it. He hightailed it out of there quicker than the babysitter’s boyfriend when the car pulls up.

He wasn’t sure how far he’d run but he made sure it was far away from the brothel. He looked around but couldn’t make heads or tails of where he was. He decided the only way he’d make it back to the shuttle-port was to hail another cab. Unfortunately, there were none in sight. Reluctantly, he ducked into a brightly-lit pub which was warmly-lit inside. Walking up to the bar he asked if they had numbers for any cab companies. The girl behind the bar pointed towards the pool table, “there’s an on-duty driver in, Dave,” she called over the roar of the chatter, “customer.” A young man approached, cigarette between his lips.

“Cheers Cheryl,” he stuck out his hand, “right where’re you off to?”

“Um, the shuttle port please, but no rush,” Rimmer stammered.

“If that’s the case, would you mind givin’ me two minutes to finish up me game?”

“Please, play a few more, I’m here, I may as well have a drink, seems an alright place,” Rimmer spoke, not knowing where these words were coming from, nor how to stop them escaping his lips. There was something about this man that intrigued him, but he couldn’t place it.

“No worries, give me a holler when you’re ready then,” the young man grinned, shaking his hand. Rimmer ordered a whiskey and found a quiet corner to sit in, a corner with a view of the pool table. He watched – Dave was it? – Playing with other young men, most of whom he beat. After a couple more whiskeys, when it looked like Dave was finished with his latest game, Rimmer made his way over to them, quietly letting him know he was ready to leave when he was done.

He followed the young driver outside to a cab that had most certainly seen better days, but he climbed in non-the-less.

“Shuttle-port, right?”

“Please,” Rimmer confirmed.

“So’re you on that big red one that’s been in orbit for a few days?” Dave questioned.

“Yes, um, yes, I am.” Rimmer replied. He didn’t understand why, but he had the urge to impress the young man before him.

“What d’ya do?”

“I’m an Officer, head of the technicians, I sort the shifts and rotations and so on.”

“Mm, must be an important position, keep you busy.”

“Yes, when we’re in space. Currently we’re on shore leave for a few months actually, while the ship undergoes external repairs and routine external checks,” Rimmer told him.

“So you’ll be around for a bit then,” Lister carried on the conversation easily on the drive to the shuttle-port. “That’ll be 22$£ please.” He said checking the meter.

Rimmer pulled out his wallet and extracted the amount, including a tip and handed it over, forgetting to shield his JMC ID card, which Lister saw and promptly revealed this man was no Officer. Lister didn’t say anything though, why should he? It wasn’t like they were likely to see each other again. Or so he thought. “Thank you, Dave,” Rimmer bid him farewell, still unable to work out his intrigue. The next night, Rimmer returned to the bar, ordered a whiskey and sat in the same corner, where he had a good view of the pool table.

Lister arrived with some friends later on, while Rimmer was purchasing his fourth whiskey, he was pleased, he had started thinking it was a mistake to return. He’d been wrong and never had he been so happy to be wrong in his life. “Dave, good to see you again,” Rimmer nodded.

“Hey, Rimmer, right? From last night? What’re you doin’ back ‘ere?”

“Well I enjoyed myself more than I’d expected, been working all day, figured I could use a change of scenery. Are you on duty tonight or?” He trailed off.

“No, tonight’s me night off. Selby’s on cab duty tonight,” he held up his pint and nodded to an older man, who appeared to be nodding off in the corner.

“Well, enjoy your evening, don’t let me keep you from it.” Rimmer said calmly, mentally berating himself for being such a complete and utter smeg-head.

“Thanks man, have a good one,” Dave told him.

Rimmer waited just over an hour before approaching ‘Selby’ for a lift. He paid the fare and decided to leave it for a night or two before going back. Give himself time to work out why he wanted to go back there.

 

He managed one night. On the second, tense from being driven crazy and banished from their quarters by his roommate Rimmer snatched up his wallet and hailed a cab to the bar, not understanding the up and down look of the cabbie in the driver seat. He ordered his drink and sat in the same place. Dave was already there, playing pool. Leaning over the table to make a long shot. Suddenly his reasoning became quite clear. Or, he thought it did. Dave had one heck of an arse. Made even clearer when he bent over the pool table to make a longer shot. Rimmer caught himself biting his lip and chastised himself.

Was he- could he be attracted to Dave? He’d never considered his sexuality as anything other than heterosexual, but then again, he’d never looked at a mans rear-end and wanted so desperately to peel off his trousers. What a ridiculous notion, he dismissed it and turned to his tablet he’d brought with him, reading an e-book he’d downloaded in preparation to make it look like he was working.

The book turned out so interesting that almost a week later Rimmer nearly jumped three feet in the air when a body dropped beside him on the backrest. “Christ, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He asked coming face to face with familiar warm brown eyes.

“Sorry man, didn’t mean to scare ya. You’re becomin’ a regular it seems.”

“Hmm. Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Workin’ hard?” Dave asked, nodding at the tablet.

“I was. Interesting game you were playing over there,” Rimmer changed the subject, Dave went with it.

“Just a game o’ pool,” Dave dismissed, as if it were something Rimmer were accustomed to. “You play?”

“No, never really had the chance, my parents were… Let’s just say we probably grew up in very different social circles.”

“What, you’ve never played before?” Rimmer shook his head.

“Always been intrigued by it though. A lot of the technicians play it. Never had the guts to have a go in front of them all though,” this wasn’t a complete lie, he had never played, and the other techs did play in the breakroom. “I’d love to learn though, give it a go, be able to get to know them in a more casual setting.”

“Well I could show ya, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Really? You’d do that? And maybe the other one, the throwing one.”

“Wha’, darts? You’ve never played darts either? Ge’ out.”

“No, seriously, I haven’t,” Rimmer said with renewed confidence. This man and he were having a genuine conversation, and it was flowing. He couldn’t understand it, normally he was never good at talking to people, especially those he seemed to be attracted to.

“Alrigh’ then, come on, better late than never.”

Rimmer was terrible at pool. That was a given. Lister left Rimmer with his friends to do a couple of taxi runs where Rimmer got hustled by Dave’s friends. Rimmer, who’d thought he was getting the hang of the game, couldn’t understand why he wasn’t able to make a simple shot. Then Dave returned and shed some light on the situation, pick-pocketing the real cue ball from his friend and making him repay Rimmer his money by threatening to tell the kids’ ‘mam.’

He did – somehow – have quite the arm for darts, where he and Dave beat his friends at doubles. Dave gave him a ride back that evening, laughing and joking together. “I can keep teachin’ you pool ya know. I’ve got a table at me flat. Come ‘round tomorrow, 2ish? I can give you another lesson, hopefully teach you somethin’ before you go back to the bar.”

“Oh, Dave, thank you. Honestly, you don’t know what that would mean to me.” Dave scribbled his address on the back of an old receipt and handed it over with Rimmer’s change.

“Oh, an’ one more thing,” Dave stuck his head across the passenger seat to look out the window at Rimmer. “Only my gran really calls me Dave, my mates call me Lister.” Dave- Lister winked and pulled the cab away from the shuttle-port. Rimmer still held the receipt with the address on for the next day.

 

Rimmer paced the pavement outside of Lister’s apartment block, debating whether or not to go through with ringing the buzzer. It was passed 2 now and he was late. Suddenly, he heard a window open and he looked up at Lister, leaning out, cigarette between his fingers. “Are you comin’ up or what?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“Long enough, come on,” Lister buzzed him in and mortified, Rimmer went up the first flight of stairs to Lister’s place and knocked. Lister let him in and asked him to take off his shoes. “Me gran insists.”

“You live with your gran?”

“Yeah, I look after her, don’t worry, she’s not in, she’s down the centre with the girls today. They’re havin’ a ladies’ afternoon. Right, come through an’ we’ll get started, you remember the basics yeah?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“Good, you break,” Lister had pre-set the table and passed Rimmer a cue. Through the lesson Lister taught Rimmer different shots and how to pot balls without the cue ball following it down the hole. By their fourth game Rimmer was getting somewhere, so Lister decided to kick it up a notch. “So, your job, Officer in charge of technicians, that must keep you busy?” He began, delighting in how Rimmer fumbled his shot, awarding Lister a penalty shot.

“Wh-What, sorry, caught me off guard, how is that relevant?”

“Well, when you’re playin’ in the pub, with the lads, they’re gonna wanna talk to ya. You’ve gotta be able to hold a chat and play. Called practise.” Lister said sinking 2 balls in a row. “So, job, keep you busy?” He asked smirking.

“Yes, um, it does. Very busy. What about your work? Do you only pick up from the pub?” Rimmer asked, turning the tables.

“Yeah, rough area, customers get harassed if wrong person is loitering outside. Pub advertised for drivers, I took ‘em up on it. It pays the bills.” Their lesson continued before Rimmer made his excuses and said he had to leave.

“Work related,” he mumbled, pulling his jacket back on. “You out tonight?”

“Nah, told me gran I’d watch a film and cook dinner for ‘er. But I’m free Thursday if you wanna come back for another lesson? An’ we can go to the bar after for darts or somethin’, I start at 9 that night.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rimmer agreed as Lister saw him out. “See you then.” Rimmer walked back into the central district of Mimas and got the bus back to the shuttle-port and back onto Red Dwarf. Rimmer returned to Red Dwarf with a spring in his step. He didn’t know what it was about Lister but spending time with him just made him happier. He had another lesson on Thursday followed by going to the pub. He’d been invited out for a night with Lister and his friends. Did that count as a date? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it did. He didn’t care, he was just glad.

 

Thursday rolled around slower than a snail fighting through spilled peanut butter. Rimmer chose his clothes carefully, normally he stuck to his off-duty uniform to show he was a proud employee, but not today. Today he wanted to wear his civilian clothes. He started with jeans to go with his boots. Choosing a shirt would be trickier. In the end he went with a polo-shirt. One of his older ones as he felt the faded look would work nicer in the warm lighting of the pub. Not that he was thinking about it too hard. No. Not at all.

He arrived at Lister’s and went to his door this time and knocked. Lister let him in and he kicked off his shoes for their lesson. He briefly met Lister’s gran before they went to the pub. “You go rack ‘em up, I’ll get drinks,” Lister told him. They played against each other and others. They were playing darts when Lister got his first customers of the night. Rimmer played and won against Lister’s friends who he seemed to be actually bonding with. He was talking to them and it was so easy. He supposed it was because he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. That always made him a little tongue tied, but he never felt that way around Lister or his friends.

At the end of the night Lister gave Rimmer a lift back to the shuttle-port and when Rimmer pulled out his wallet Lister pushed it back. “Don’t worry abou’ it man. On the house. You still comin’ round tomorrow again?”

“As long as I’m still invited,” Rimmer replied.

“Looks like I’ll see you then,” Lister grinned.

 

That night Rimmer was glad his roommate had a date and had seemingly gone back to their place. If he hadn’t Rimmer wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep his confused feelings about Lister to himself, going by the dream he’d had. Lister had been leaning over the pool table, in the pub, only they were alone, and they were completely naked. He’d woken feeling hot, flushed and hard. He indulged in a shower, hoping to get back to sleep, the last thing he wanted was to explain to Lister why he looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Unfortunately for Rimmer, the dreams were set to become a regular fixture when he slept. He was just grateful that he didn’t talk in his sleep, if he did, he wasn’t sure he could withstand the mortification.

The next day he arrived back at Lister’s, having gotten some sleep. Lister continued to quiz Rimmer as they played. “Why do you get to ask all the questions?” Rimmer asked, trying to avoid answering one about his family.

“You wanna know about my life? Ask away,” Lister said, he had nothing to hide.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Liverpool, 2 to me,” he said, bending over the table, Rimmer was forced to avert his eyes, lest he get caught staring. “Why do you keep trying to avoid questions about your family?”

“If you must know, they’re the biggest group of smegging bastards to walk the solar-system. Where were you born?”

“Don’t know, I was found under a pool table at 6 weeks old. Elaborate more on your family?”

“My father was rejected from the Space Corps for being an inch below regulation height, when we were small he’d put us on some device and stretch us if he didn’t think we were growing quick enough. He also quizzed us at mealtimes, Astro-Navigation questions. Get them wrong, you didn’t eat.”

“What an arse. How’d you cope with that?”

“I didn’t, I was hospitalised and almost died of malnourishment at age 7. My brothers were just as bad. Father made us compete for their love. He praised those who got ahead by whatever means necessary, my brothers were brutal, especially to me. I was the youngest and the weakest. What about your parents?”

“Me dad died when I was six, me mum killed herself when I was 12. Just been me and gran since then. We moved to Mimas because she thought it would help me, get me away from what people were sayin’ about us.”

“Lister, I’m sorry,” Rimmer said. They’d stopped playing by now.

“Don’t worry about it man, guess neither of us had a picture perfect upbringing.”

“You can say that again,” Rimmer agreed, “should I re-rack them?”

“Let’s call it a day, drink?”

“No, I’d better not, I’ve got a report due tonight,” Rimmer made his excuses.

“See you there Tuesday night then, right?”

“See you then,” Rimmer hesitated before leaving the flat, smiling at Lister. Back on Red Dwarf he found his room empty, his roommate must have gone out also. He laid in his bunk thinking about his time since meeting Lister, the thoughts that he’d fought back so hard against and the realisation that it might not be so bad to let them win.

 

Rimmer walked from the centre to the bar. It was just getting dark, he was meeting Lister and his friends again and he was looking forward to it. Tonight, was game night apparently. Once a month the bar would organise a bar games tournament for the patrons who were interested. Lister had asked Rimmer to be his teammate. It comprised a mix of drinking games, various darts games, pool and a trick shot round. He’d leave that one to Lister, but he’d certainly have a good go at the rest of the games.

When he arrived, he saw the bar busier than he had since he first set foot in the place. Lister set eyes on him immediately and pulled him over to the bar. “Are all these teams competing?”

“No’ all of ‘em. Most are just here t’ support their teams. There’re a few pubs who send teams. Right, drinks, beer?”

Rimmer looked around the room, sizing up their competition. “Please,” he decided, clinked glasses with Lister and drank, letting the taste settle on his tongue.

Their first match was pool, which they won by a hair before being sent to the dart board. Rimmer trounced the other team, he still had no idea how he was such a good throw. As the night wore on, other teams pulled ahead but neither seemed to mind, they were having too much fun to care. When it came down to it they were playing for third place in the trick shot round. It was Lister’s last turn, he needed to sink this shot and they’d won. He took a tequila shot for his nerves and lined up his shot.

Everything slowed down as the ball rolled sluggishly towards the hole, Lister had covered his face, thinking he’d overshot it. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder as regulars from the bar cheered. He uncovered his eyes as it dropped into the opening. Lister leapt up, turned and hugged his teammate.

The crowd moved to watch the fight for first place, but Lister and Rimmer made their way to the bar, talking enthusiastically, shaking hands with their opponents and splitting their winnings. They got a fresh drink and tried to find a quiet space to talk. Unable to find one, they went outside, and Lister lit his cigarette. Sitting at a bench they resumed their conversation.

“I can’t believe that shot went in man, I thought I’d blown it,” Lister said, still processing, they were sat the same side of a food bench. They were facing one and other, one leg each side of their seat.

“But you didn’t, that was the best shot I’ve ever seen you make.”

“Ge’ outta here? Really?”

“Seriously, when did you have time to practise that?”

“I do have a life outside of cab drivin’ and teachin’ you how to play pool y’know.” Lister held his cigarette out to Rimmer who declined it.

“I don’t doubt that, I think you have nailed the life-work balance.”

“Well, mostly, sometimes I think there’s something missin’. You ever get that feeling?”

Rimmer paused, “sometimes,” Rimmer said softly, he leaned forwards, as did Lister. They paused, faces centimetres apart, Rimmer took a chance, despite his instincts telling him to run and pressed his lips against Lister’s. Lister’s hand cupped Rimmer’s cheek as he returned the kiss. Rimmer’s world slowed down, he was kissing Lister, really kissing him. He’d thought about this moment, it had haunted his dreams, day and night alike. Lister pulled back, he was smiling, Rimmer froze, he was regretting all of his choices, what had he been thinking? “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, standing suddenly. He pulled on his jacket, “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I have to go.” Lister recognized the fear in Rimmer’s eyes, he stood but didn’t fight it.

“Do you wan’ me to get Selby?” Rimmer didn’t reply, he just continued to apologize, and walked, jacket pulled tight, berating himself. Lister tried to follow him but he decided better of it. Rimmer needed time. He needed time to come to terms with things. Lister would give him that.

 

Lister waited. He looked after his gran, he went to work, he drove his cab and he hung out at the bar. Rimmer never returned. Lister left him a message, Rimmer listened to it, slumped in his bunk for the 5th day in a row. He’d really messed up, he knew it. He should have never kissed Lister. Never given into his feelings.

Someone knocked on the doors to his quarters. Thinking it was for his roommate he rose, intending to tell them he wasn’t there. Then the doors slid open and he saw Lister. “Hi.”

“Hi, what’re you doing here?” Rimmer asked.

“Came to find you man. I figured we should talk about what happened. Can I come in?” Rimmer stepped to one side, allowing Lister in. “I want to apologize, I should’ve stopped the kiss. I mean- not that I didn’t enjoy it, but you’d had a lot to drink, I should’ve known better.”

“I, I enjoyed it too. It took me by surprise, I’d never been with another man before, let alone been attracted to one.”

“Wait, you’re not gay, or been attracted to blokes before?”

“No, or, I didn’t think I was. Why?”

“Then what was you doin’ in a gay bar?”

“That’s a gay bar?”

“You didn’t know?”

“How would I?”

“The buildin’s painted like a pride flag.”

“It was dark.”

“It’s illuminated with fairy lights.” Rimmer cringed, “don’t worry abou’ it, 2nd technician Arnold J Rimmer.” Lister smirked and Rimmer’s head whipped around.

“What? How did you?”

“Saw your ID that first night,” Lister said smirking, “I never said anything because I thought you were, flirtin’ or trying to impress me. Not that you’d have needed to, by the way. I was going to make a move, but you beat me to it,” Lister told him.

“The job’s the only thing I wasn’t telling the truth about. The rest, my family, my awful brothers, all true. I wanted, just for once, to feel like I could be someone.”

“You are someone.”

“Maybe out there. But in here? I’m 2nd tech Rimmer, 12 years long service who continues to fail his astro-nav exams. I’ll never be someone to them.”

“You’re someone to me,” Lister took a step towards Rimmer, “you’re someone to the people in that pub too. All week the boys have been asking where you are. They like havin’ you around. I like havin’ you around.”

“Our shore leave ends soon,” Rimmer said defeatedly, leaning back against the bunks, “I’d wanted to tell you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to put a damper on our fun. It’s strange, normally I ache to get back out into space. It’s everything I thought I wanted as a child. Everything my father pushed us towards. The Space Corps. But right now, the thought of leaving you behind here on Mimas makes me ill. I’ll be honest Lister, I’m a coward, I’m terrified of what will happen to me if I leave this ship, if I stay here on Mimas, but right now I want to do nothing else.” Rimmer unlocked and held out his tablet he’d been typing on for the last few hours. Lister took it, looking at the screen.

“Is this?”

“My letter of resignation. I haven’t sent it yet. I was trying to work up the courage when you knocked on my door,” Rimmer took the tablet back and made eye contact with Lister, “and right now, I’ve never been more sure.” He hit send and the letter went. Lister stood, staring at him.

“So?”

“I’m staying.” Rimmer confirmed. “I’m staying,” Rimmer’s face exploded into a grin. “It’ll take a day or two to be processed, but then I can leave the ship. For good.”

“I’m happy for you man,” Lister leaned beside him.

“Do you, um, I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a drink?” Rimmer asked. Lister turned to him.

“I don’t know man, I mean I like my men in uniforms and you just hung yours up,” Lister told him and Rimmer’s jaw dropped. Suddenly Lister laughed, “I’m kidding. I’d love to go for a drink,” he told him, “come on, my cab’s down at the shuttle-port.”

 

They returned to the pub and Rimmer looked up at the bright rainbow painted building. “OK, yeah, I see what you mean now.”

Lister chuckled, “It’s alright, I hear it’s hard to notice in the dark,” he teased, slipping his hand into Rimmer’s. Rimmer rolled his eyes as Lister laughed. They ordered drinks when Lister noticed and pointed out something to Rimmer. “Hey, look at this? Who’s leavin’?” Lister asked Jamie who was tending bar that night.

“Ollie, he got accepted into that engineering program on Jupiter. His going away party is next Saturday.”

“That’s amazing, he’s worked so hard for that,” they made their way to Rimmer’s booth. “You could apply,” he encouraged Rimmer, “it’s familiar, the people here already know you and it’d be a start.”

“Lister, what would I know about tending a bar?”

“Hey, you’re a quick learner, you learned pool in a couple of hours, bet you’d pick up pouring a drink quicker.”

“OK,” Rimmer accepted, “I’ll ask when I go for the next round.”

Rimmer came away from the bar that evening with a trial shift for Wednesday. When he returned to Red Dwarf he found an email on his tablet accepting his resignation. He tried not to feel rejection at the speediness of the reply, but he quickly got over it when he felt a great weight lifting from his shoulders. He had until the end of shore leave to move out of his bunk. He messaged Lister and they talked all night about where he could live. While the offer to stay with Lister was tempting, they barely knew each other and Rimmer was nothing if not practical. There was a small flat, near the pub, he’d be able to afford it easily.

So he did.

Lister helped him move out of his bunk and into his flat, bringing music and beer for when they’d finished. They ordered most of the things Rimmer would need online, including a pizza for dinner. Lister chose the music they unpacked to, he had a playlist of hits from the 1980’s that he danced around the flat to while they worked. Rimmer watched him out of the corner of his eye, not quite daring enough to join in. Suddenly, Lister was upon him, one hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He pulled him backwards, tumbling on the lumpy couch that came with the apartment. They continued to kiss and shifted further up the furniture. The buzzer interrupted them as Lister had began unbuttoning Rimmer’s shirt. They groaned at the interruption, but their stomachs growled in protest as they attempted to kiss again.

Lister declined to stay the night, he had to help his gran with groceries in the morning, but kissing goodbye delayed his departure by quarter of an hour at least. Once he was alone, tiredness caught up with Rimmer and he resigned himself to an early night ahead of his trial shift at the bar.

Lister didn’t go into the bar that evening, he didn’t want to distract Rimmer and ruin his chances. Rimmer called him for his walk back home, Lister had insisted, to tell him that he’d got the job. His first shift would be the next afternoon with Cheryl. He was looking forward to it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to bed, excited for his next shift. It had been years since he’d felt like this while on Red Dwarf.

 

It was a hot Mimosian Summer day when Rimmer learned Lister had a nickname given to him by the other cab drivers. He and Lister were stood in front of one of the cabs. Lister was giving all the cars check-ups, make sure they were all up to code and Rimmer had been roped in considering he had been a capable engineer in the JMC. Rimmer had just checked the oil when Selby came out to ask if they wanted drinks. “Arnold, drink?”

“I’ll have a beer please,” he called back.

“Anything for you Spanners?” He asked.

“Same for me thanks,” Lister said closing the hood of Selby’s cab.

“Spanners?” Rimmer asked as they wiped the oil from their hands onto rags.

“It’s what the other drivers call me, because I do this stuff. Don’t laugh, you’re one to laugh, don’t think I haven’t heard about your nickname, _Ace_ ,” Lister teased. Rimmer rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder as Selby returned with their drinks. They only had Lister’s cab to do, but that could wait until they’d had their drinks.

 

Rimmer had been working at the bar for 4 months when his past decided to catch up with him. He’d been having the time of his life working at the bar. He was popular with the patrons and to everyone’s surprise, mostly his own, he had a knack for flair-tending while making cocktails. The regulars called him Ace. He didn’t mind, it had a nice ring to it. He was close to finishing his shift and joining the boys when he turned to serve his next customer only to come face to face with one of his brothers. “I thought I recognised you Arnold, so the rumours were true, you’ve given up on the family dream eh?” His brother boomed loud enough that it caught the attention of some of his friends.

“Howard,” he said, unsure how he could have possibly found him. “What’re you- How did you find me?”

“Heard a rumour, wanted to find if there was any truth in it and by God was I expecting it to be fake, but you couldn’t make this up.”

“Rumour? From where?”

“A friend of mumsy. Her son said he was in here and swore you’d served him. Oh, mumsy will love this,” Howard said, relishing in finding out new dirt on Arnold before their other brothers. Rimmer’s brothers were all in the Space Corps, every one of them were what his father had pushed him to be.

“Why would they care what I get up to? I left at 16, I divorced them as parents.”

“We know that, but knowing how badly you’re doing just makes father so much prouder of me John and Frank.” Some of Rimmer’s friends had been drawn in to their interaction.

“Everything OK here Ace?” Ken, one of the bouncers they had for big events asked.

“All good here Ken, my brother here was just leaving,” he sent a look at Howard who took the hint. _Shame_ , Rimmer thought, he would have loved to see Howard get thrown out. Michael had come behind the bar and put a hand on his shoulder, telling him to clock off now, rather than in 10 minutes. Rimmer nodded but finished putting away the last few glasses from the machine. Clocking out he went straight over to his friends who patted him on the back and handed him a drink and the cue to start a new game.

As he lined up his shot he felt hands slide into his back-jean pockets. He smiled and took his shot and straightened up, his back to Lister’s chest. “You finished up early,” he noted. Rimmer smiled, handing the cue off to Lionel he turned to face Lister.

“I’ll explain later, right now I just want to ignore what just happened and enjoy your company,” dipping his head Rimmer caught Lister’s lips in a gentle, heart-felt kiss.

“Hey, you two, don’t make me pour water over you again, Spanners, your shot,” Eric interrupted, holding out the cue. The pair rolled their eyes and separated, laughing with their friends. They could do that later, they had all the time in the world.


End file.
